


Day of the Locust

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 18:45:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11341176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: At the end of the world Mulder has to realize his true feelings.





	Day of the Locust

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Day Of The Locust by Ratwoman

30.03.99  
Disclaimer: If anyone might think the X-files were my idea, he's wrong.  
Ratings:NC-17; slash;M/K. If you are under 18, don't read this.  
Spoilers: About every Krycek-episode, Small Potatoes, Fight the Future, several conspiration episodes.  
Plot Summary: At the end of the world Mulder has to realize his true feelings  
Thanks to my beta-readers  
I haven't seen season six yet, so if anything I've written is in contradiction with the events of the actual season, I don't care.  
I wrote on this until my wrist hurt, so please honorize my efforts with feedback at 

* * *

Day Of The Locust  
by Ratwoman  


They knew they had lost.

Time was running out. Weeks, days, hours... they didn't even know how much -how little - time was left, until it began. Until the aliens would take over the world, and there was no way to stop them. No matter what they had tried, they had always failed. And not even the Bounties would help them anymore. And the invaders didn't want to share the world with the natives.

Sometimes Mulder thought it was a law of nature that the strong always killed the weak. The Europeans, his own ancestors, had almost wiped out the Indians, taken their land, forced them to live only in the waste areas, killed them whenever they dared to rebel against the injustice. Just the same had happened to the Aboriginies in Australia. Now another force was coming to colonize, spread out on earth. Now all humans were the natives who had to make room for the colonists. Which meant to die. 

Mulder gazed over the table at Scully. Why was she telling him all these stories about her family, about her brother Bill? About his and his wife's plan for another baby? It would never see the light of day, Scully knew that as well as he. In the end, even she had to see it.

Was that her way to handle the fear, acting as if everything was alright? Or was she trying to take regard to him, trying to take his mind off the unavoidable? Since he knew her she had always taken regard on him, always been the strong one, even when she had been dying.

Mulder watched her talking without listening to her words, viewing her hair, her eyes... she was avoiding to meet his gaze, as if she didn't want him to see how she really felt.

Mulder paid the bill for the dinner, the first time she had accepted his invitation to go out. Today she had not answered that she had to work on a few files. The world was dying, why wasting their time for overtime?

Of course they would live on as always until it began. They didn't know what else to do; and the population did not know yet about the coming invasion. Weeks ago, Mulder would have said that the public in any case would have to be informed, but now... he had not yet decided wether to tell the press. When he looked at the people in the restaurant, laughing groups of friends, couples in love, he doubted wether it was really right to tell them what was going to happen. They would panic, none of them would be able to enjoy their last days anymore.

They took on their coats and left, Mulder driving Scully home. They were chatting about nothings during the ride, never allowing silence to part them. Or to unite them?

They also stayed in front of Scully's flat for awhile, talking to each other, never reaching each other.

"See you tomorrow at work?" Scully finally asked.

"Yes, of course." Mulder replied. //Please, sleep with me.//

"Well, then." Scully said just to say something.

Small and perfect she stood at the door, and Mulder hoped she'd let him in for a cup of coffee and more, not daring to ask a person so perfect for anything intimate. But she just wished him goodnight and hugged him like a friend. Like the friend she was, his best, his only friend. Better not change settings, 'cause if they were lovers, would they still be friends then?

Mulder watched her vanishing in the house, wishing to hold her small, perfect body forever.

Damn! Maybe this had been his last chance to show her how much he really loved her. Eddie van Blundt had been right - he was a loser, a loser who had chosen to be a loser. 

Or was it that he really didn't want to change their platonic relationship, even if the world was going to crumble?

\--------

A dark figure picked the lock of Mulder's apartment, slipped inside and hid in the shadows, waiting.

\--------

Mulder returned into his apartment, feeling empty. He dropped himself onto the couch, grabbed the remote control and switched on the TV, arbitrarily zapping through the channels. Beside soap operas there were lots of news about war, pollution, crime. With a sardonic smile Mulder thought they'd exterminate themselves anyway even without the aliens' "help". Mulder stopped at a porno movie, but watching the bodies moving didn't make him feel any better.

He recognized the sound of someone moving behind him too late. A handcuff closed around his right wrist and chained him to the armrest of the couch.

"What the hell...!" Mulder cursed.

"Just to make sure you listen to me - and don't beat me." a voice Mulder would have been able to pick out of thousands answered. Alex Krycek.

He appeared out of the dark that seemed to be a part of his soul. Actually, he walked around the couch to stand in front of Mulder. The FBI-agent stared gloomily at the young man. Fate seemed to be determined not to let the world end without him being confronted with that rat bastard again.

"You've been careless, Mulder." Krycek said switching off the TV.

"Careless?" Mulder repeated flatly.

"Yes, I could creep up to you in your own apartment." Krycek replied. "And you claim to be a Special Agent?"

Mulder wished nothing more than to wipe that arrogant smile off Krycek's face. Too bad, that the handcuffs kept him on the couch.

"What do you want, Krycek?" he spat out.

A vulnerality Mulder wasn't used to associate with Krycek fell on his face like a shadow, before he turned away and stepped to the window. With his back to Mulder he said: " The world is dying, Mulder. You tried to prevent it, God knows, I tried, too. We failed. It's just a question of time until THEY come." Krycek fell silent.

"That's no answer to my question." Mulder remarked.

Krycek turned around to face him. In the dim moonlight he could hardly see his features.

"I want you." Krycek said quietly.

Mulder felt his stomach cramp.

"And you want me, too." Krycek claimed. When Mulder snorted in disgust, Krycek added. "In the evening when I told you about the invasion, when I kissed you..."

"Don't remind me of that!" Mulder interrupted. //Please, don't//

Krycek's voice was low, merely more than a whisper, when he added: "You didn't flinch, you didn't turn away your head. You didn't jump at me to beat the crap out of me, and when I gave you my gun, you didn't shoot me or tried to arrest me. You just stared at me."

Mulder had wondered about that, too. And of course found an explanation. After all, he was a psychologist. But he had never been good at analyzing himself.

"You surprised me." Mulder said. "I didn't expect that y o u , my enemy... you stunned me out of action."

"Would you have been stunned out of action if Cancerman kissed you?" Krycek asked tauntingly.

Against his will Mulder had to laugh. "I would have puked."

Krycek squatted down in front of the couch, inches away from Mulder's face. "Did you puke after I left?"

"I sat there, brooding." Mulder replied. Brooding about the extricable relations that are neither accidental nor somehow in our control.

They were both silent for a moment, then Krycek stated: "I am not going to die before I slept with you."

After a heartbeat, Mulder replied: "Then you're going to live forever."

Krycek stared at him for a few seconds. With an increasing heartbeat Mulder remembered that it was the same way Krycek had stared at him before he had kissed him on the cheek. So it didn't come as a surprise when Krycek leaned forward to kiss him again. Nevertheless he didn't flinch back when Krycek's lips gently brushed his own. And when Krycek's tongue found ist way into his mouth for a careful exploration Mulder was tempted to give in and just let it happen. But no! Krycek was his enemy. He had betrayed his trust again and again in the last six years, he had helped to abduct Scully - Scully, his only true friend, the only person he could rely on -, he'd murdered his father, killed Scully's sister, hurt about everyone he knew. He couldn't, wouldn't give in into his dark charms.

Mulder pushed Krycek away, slapping his pretty face hard with his left. "Didn't you already hurt me enough?" He shouted. Krycek tumbled back, holding his bleeding nose. "Do you have to destroy everything? My father, my partner, me..." Krycek looked at him in concern.Yes, the young man was a hell of an actor, but this time Mulder wouldn't fall for him. How could he sleep with him when he had never even kissed Scully, not even in that hallway years ago? Whatever Krycek wanted he had to take it forcibly or leave without it, but Mulder wouldn't voluntarily sleep with him."Go on, Krycek!" Mulder sneered between clenched teeth. "Take me, break me, if you have to add one more crime to your list! But you won't get me without getting some bruises!"

Shit! When Krycek had come here, he had been determined to sleep with Mulder before their time ran out, if neccessary even without Mulder's consent. He hadn't gone through all this shit to die alone in the dirt, without ever getting a piece of his hearts desire. And anyway he hardly could hurt Mulder any more than he already had, or could he? Yes, he could. And that was the last thing he wanted.

Krycek started to chuckle. His life was a joke. All the time he had done everything to survive just to die during the Apocalypse. At the FBI he didn't tell Mulder that the Consortium was going to abduct Scully out of fear of what Cancerman would do to him if he didn't follow his orders. He had tried to convince himself that he had shot Mulder's father because he'd been angry when he found out about the years of abuse, but the truth was, he had been afraid that Cancerman would kill him if he didn't do as he was told. His fear was not unfounded; that Cigarette Smoking Bastard tried to kill him a short time later because he knew too much.

Selling government secrets to survive. Mulder despised him for that.

Dmitri - if Mulder knew about Dmitri, he would hate him even more. Not wanting to kill the boy but in need to make sure he didn't tell anyone what he had seen, he had infected him with the black cancer and sewed shut his body openings, which was probably worse than killing him. He died anyway. A new pact with the Consortium, at least this time not with Cancerman. 

One way or the other, whatever he had done to survive, took him further away from the only one he had ever loved, farer away from the chance to be happy, at least for once in a lifetime. And now there was no hope to survive the next month.

Krycek glanced one more time at Mulder, taking in every detail of the man he loved, before he fished the handcuff-keys out of his pocket. He wouldn't disturb Mulder anymore.

Mulder speechlessly watched Krycek as he broke out into laughter. First an almost silent chuckle, growing louder and louder, then a barking laughter, and all of it without the slightest trace of humor. He seemed to be completely out of his mind. Eventually Krycek fell silent, staring intensely at Mulder. Mulder looked defiantly back into huge dark eyes, framed by long thick lashes. You could lose yourself in those eyes.

Mulder was slightly disappointed when Krycek broke the eye-contact, fished something out of his pockets and threw it to Mulder. Keys. For the handcuffs.

"Twas nice to see you one more time." Krycek said flatly. "Bye then. Have a nice death."

With those words he turned to the door. Mulder watched his graceful movements. Lean, yet muscular, just like a cat. It was probably the last time he had seen him.

He would never again look into his eyes, never again press his body against a wall... no, he couldn't let him go like that!

Mulder tried to stand up, but realized that he was still chained to the couch. Cursing out loudly, he hastily opened the lock and jumped up, following Krycek. He reached the younger man when he was already in the corridor of the flat, about to open the door and vanish in the dark of night. 

Mulder grasped Krycek's slim waist and pulled him back, back to him. Krycek gasped as Mulder pressed his whole body against Krycek's, his chest against Krycek's back, his arms folded around Krycek's middle, his groin rubbing against Krycek's butts.

"You won't go anywhere!" Mulder said, nuzzling his neck, enjoying the scent that was unmistakeably Krycek's. And his body was warm and firm and tight and this was the last chance they had...

Krycek was more than surprised at Mulder's sudden change of mind but he certainly wouldn't complain. So he held still and let Mulder take control. Krycek moaned in sheer pleasure as Mulder's hands moved greedily along his ribcage, then the FBI-agent flipped him around and pushed him against the wall, pressing his body against Krycek, kissing him with all the passion and desperation he had bottled up in the last few years. Krycek virtually melted into the kiss. He couldn't believe this happened, but if he was halluzinating it was the best delusion he could imagine. Mulder broke the kiss but took Alex's face into his hands and frantically started to kiss, nibble and lick inch for inch of Krycek's face. He slightly bit into the top of his nose, moved his lips along his cheeks, nipped his jaw, kissed his eyelids, each inch of his forehead, tongued his ears... Krycek moaned helplessly, his knees felt like butter and his groin was a blazing inferno sending flames through his whole body.

Mulder had always loved Krycek's face. And his long legs, and his ass, and his slim waist, and ... anything. Mulder moved back, just for inches, to look at Krycek's face. He was panting, just as he himself. So beautiful.

Krycek winced as Mulder grabbed his leather jacket and shoved it down his shoulders, and soon he also saw the reason why. The prothesis. God, what had they done to him? 

Mulder must have looked disturbed, because Krycek huskily said: "If this is a problem for you, I go and you can forget what we almost did."

//No, don't leave me!//

"I don't care about the arm." Mulder answered. Hastily he corrected: "No, I do care. But it doesn't matter; I want you the same."

Krycek nodded his head in understanding and they went on. Krycek's tee-shirt ended up on the floor, followed by his prothesis, joined by Mulder's jacket and shirt.

Mulder's hands explored with enthusiasm Krycek's muscular chest while he kissed his long throat. Slowly, almost shyly Krycek's hand moved along Mulder's back, down his spine, to his still dressed ass, squeezing it slightly. Mulder gasped, rubbing their groins together. 

"Krycek" he said, lying his cheek onto Krycek's "Do you have some lube with you?"

"Of course," Krycek purred. "In the back-pocket of of my jeans."

Glad to hear that, Mulder flipped him around and fished the tube out of his pocket. Grasping around his hip he opened Krycek's jeans and tore them down until they were hanging at his knees. After making Alex moan by squeezing the perfect half-rounds he put a blob of lube onto his fingers and put them in to prepare him hastily, yearning to free his aching cock and impale Krycek's divine ass onto it.

Krycek was shivering with anticipation. Mulder's fingers definitively weren't enough, he wanted more. Greedily, impatiently he moved his hips against the intruding fingers until they vanished and Mulder's erect cock rubbed against Alex's ass, then, slowly, entered him.

Krycek moaned; he felt so filled, so complete, so... . Then Mulder began to move. Relatively slowly at first, but soon he speeded up, desperately longing for him for a long long time, never before admitting his feelings to himself.

Mulder moaned, Krycek cried, his hand grasped the wardrobe for hold while he unawarely moved his hips in unison with Mulder. They couldn't keep the speed for long and soon Mulder came with a loud scream.

Sweating Mulder tumbled back and leaned against the opposite wall. Krycek still clenched his fist around the wardrobe for hold, glittering with sweat. So perfect.

Panting, Krycek turned around and glanced at Mulder. His lover was leaning against the wall, his trousers open, the upper part of his slender body uncovered, his eyes clouded with lust. God, he was so beautiful.

Krycek wanted to step to Mulder to touch him, to feel him, but he had forgotten that his jeans were still hanging at his knees. He tumbled and fell, half caught by Mulder, half pulling him down, landing hard on the floor.

"I told you you won't get me without some bruises." Mulder teased playfully. Krycek spared an answer and climbed onto Mulder. Straddling his waist, he bent down and kissed his long throat, something he had wanted to do since.... seemingly since the beginning of the world. 

Krycek worked his way down over Mulder's chest, cheered by the salty taste of his skin, reaching his nipples and sucked one of them in, pleased to hear Mulder's tiny moans. He crawled further down, tongueing Mulder's wonderful flat abdomen and reached his groin, burying his face in Mulder's pubic hairs, licking along the shaft. Mulder was already erect again, and so was he. He had been stone-hard since Mulder had enfolded his waist and pulled him back into the apartment. Krycek crawled back upwards and kissed Mulder wildly, before he whispered: "I want you, Mulder! May I..."

Mulder's eyes were dazed as he answered: "Whatever you want, Alex."

Krycek reached for the tube of lube lying somewhere on the floor, where Mulder had let it drop. He shoved Mulder's pants completely down, waited until he wantonly spread his legs, and applied two or three blobs of lube, he didn't count them. As his lover started to whimper in impatience, he eventually entered the hot, tight, slick channel. 

Krycek felt somehow sheltered by the warmth surrounding him and at the same time moved by the trust Mulder set in him to open himself up for him that way. Then he started to thrust in and out in a passionate, deep pace, grasping Mulder's cock and stroking it in the same rhythm.

Mulder pulled his lover down for a deep kiss and decided to keep him there while their hips were moving in unison faster and faster. Krycek came first, with one last primitive thrust. The feeling of his sperms disperging into him brought Mulder over the edge and he too ejaculated into Krycek's fist.

For a few minutes they both lay pantingly on the floor in the narrow corridor, between shoes and heaps of paper. The haze of lust that had clouded Mulder's thoughts for the last few minutes of exploding passion cleared, and he remembered all the reasons why he should hate the man beside him; but somehow they didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was that they were finally together now. And that they didn't know how much time they had left.

He gazed at Krycek, saying: "I think my bedroom will be more comfortable."

Krycek gave a short laughter: "You do have a bedroom?"

"Yes, I just don't sleep in it." With a smirk Mulder added: "But sleeping is not what I have in mind."

Krycek smiled, shaking his head: "Do you never get enough?"

"Not where you are concerned." Mulder answered, seeing with pleasure the unbelieving, but happy look on Krycek's face.

What followed was not the same wild, desperate detonation of bottled up emotion that had overwhelmed them in the corridor, but a gentle, tender exploration of their bodies; stroking, caressing, learning, memorizing, not knowing but sensing that this was their last night.

Somewhen, entwined with Alex, slowly moving his hand down his back while kissing softly his left shoulder, sad about the loss of his arm, Mulder started to cry. To cry that the world did have to end when they finally had found each other, crying for the hard times Alex had gone through, weeping for all he had endured, weeping for Scully, his one and only friend, for Skinner, for his mother, for never finding out what happened to Samantha, crying for the dead, for his father, Mellissa, Pendrell, Deep Throat, X, weeping for the end of this cruel world. Why had they gone through all this pain when there was nothing they could do to safe the earth?

Krycek held his weeping lover in his arm, wishing he'd still have his left arm to close them both around Mulder. He said nothing, because he didn't know what to say, how to comfort Mulder. His shoulder was wetted by Mulder's tears, a lump of uncried tears in his own throat, yearning to break free. But he had forgotten how to cry long ago.

Not even back in the silo had he cried; he had shouted, screamed, laughed in desperation, but he really hadn't been able to cry, to let it all out. He just kept any feeling hidden deep inside, except the ones that had been played. Maybe he didn't want to admit that he could be hurt, not even to himself. So he had built up a protective wall around himself, telling himself that people could only hurt his body, but never his soul. He was wrong, he could be hurt. Mulder had shaken his protective wall long ago; but never torn it down.

"Oh shit, Alex!" Mulder sobbed wih teardrowned voice. "Why couldn't ... why couldn't I realize earlier how much I love you?"

His protective wall shattered and crumbled.

He loved Mulder and Mulder... Mulder loved him, too, God only knew why! Hours, days, at best one more month... when they were lucky.

He tried to tell himself that it didn't matter that they had no more time to extend their relationship, that all that mattered was that they were together now, that lots of people never found their love, but it didn't work. The thruth was, he wanted to stay with Mulder, to watch him grow old. But they would die. 

Krycek felt a burning in his eyes and the lump in his throat grew.It eased when tears poured out of the corners of his eyes, flew down his cheeks, cool and wet. He tasted one of them on his tongue, surprised that they were salty. Then it was Mulder who held Krycek while he cried, shaken by heavy thrusts that felt surprisingly like laughter, all his pain washed out by his tears.

Soothing Krycek's grief, Mulder felt better, too. He had never thought, he and Alex would ever find solace in each other, that they would ever stop hurting each other. At least, they found it out before they died.

"Better now?" Mulder asked when Krycek hesitatingly solved himself out of Mulder's arms. 

"Yes" Krycek answered somewhat surprised. "I...feel better now."

Mulder smiled knowingly. For a brief moment he wondered if, when they had enough time, he could change Alex, lead him back to the right path. But he didn't really want him any different.

Mulder pulled the blanket over them both and they fell asleep, curled up in spoon position.

  
The alien shapeshifter formed a tentakel to push something similar to a button on something similar to an instrument panel. Then it transcended into something similar to a chair and watched something similar to a monitor.

Everything was prepared, the seed was planted. In fifteen time units the black beasts would be activated, and in hundred more time units they would have erased the human species. All they would have to do then was to put away the rubbish.

Some of them, the humans called them bounties, had wanted only to enslave the humans, but that had been a stupid idea. The humans were no use... the black beasts they'd found on planet 473, yes, they were useful as a kind of pest controller who freed the new planets they were about to colonize from all disturbing creatures, like the humans now. Easily to transport, for in their larva state they were just black oil, easily to plant and extremely effective in erasing carbon based species like humans. Since they knew how, the black beast would also be easily to wipe out as soon as they weren't needed anymore. 

Earth had been easy to conquer. Some old humans had even been stupid enough to help them to plant the seed. But what could be expected from a species as primitive as the humans?

The alien shifted its mass and waited.

THE END


End file.
